


Parallel

by SaxSpieler



Category: Runescape
Genre: Gen, I don't ship these two at all but I really like the dynamic between them so yeah, Stream of Consciousness, headcanons ahoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8163340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaxSpieler/pseuds/SaxSpieler
Summary: Nomad’s last memory is rather talkative and contemplates the similarities and differences between himself and Finley while she listens in.
Takes place during Tales of Nomad.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, here’s some stream of consciousness-type stuff I wrote while stuck in western blot hell. I took the slight implications that Nomad was actually talking to the WG through his memories and ran with that. Headcanons ahoy once again! 
> 
> Also, spoilers?

You and I.

We walked parallel roads.

_Murderers._

They took our mothers from us.

_Grief._

It twisted our souls, for better or for worse.

_Survival._

We were forced to do everything within our power to stay alive.

_Anger._

It fueled our fights.

_Power._

We sought it out. Made it our own.

_Betrayal._

We both committed it - don’t deny that fact.

_Death._

We both defied it. Defied him.

We walked parallel roads.

Equals.

In experience, and, eventually, in power.

Twisted wrecks of symmetry.

I assumed I could take advantage of that similarity. I knew, in my very bones, that your soul held the key to my own healing. My own, dare I say it, apotheosis of power.

Just as dear old Oreb taught me when I still had hair on my head.

So…

Why, despite everything, did I fail?

I planned _everything_ out. From start to finish. Stacked the cards in my favor. You were very easy to fool, after all. I still laugh when I think of just how willing you were to place your hand in mine.

I held on to that hand as I fell, you know…

Perhaps it wasn’t the hand I was holding on to.

Perhaps it was the sentiment.

That unattainable sentiment…

Ah, I digress.

By all accounts, I should’ve succeeded. I should’ve devoured your soul. I don’t exactly have a mouth anymore, but I’m sure it’d be watering at the thought.

So…

Why did I fail?

…

Hush.

I’ll answer my own questions, thank you very much.

I failed because I underestimated you. _Again._

We might be equals in experience, but you…

_You._

You refused to fall.

You refused to hate.

_I,_ on the other hand.

I hated.

…

I was just about to explain that, you…you…Bannbreker. Stop interrupting me.

I hated everything.

_Everyone._

Tools. Insignificant tools, all of them. Going about their lives, blind to the strings that bound and controlled them, just waiting to be used and discarded.

And I hated them all.

The hatred became a part of me. It became comfortable, familiar. It was the only thing I could rely on besides my own two hands.

You, though.

I saw fear, anger, and rage buried deep in your soul.

But, I never saw hatred.

You baffle me, honestly. It’s infuriating. We’ve walked parallel roads, yet you ignored the stones thrown at your head along the way. How could you be so naive? So willfully ignorant?

…

You _weren’t_ ignoring them?

You…

Ah, I see.

A _choice._

Cruelty. Ruthlessness. Hatred. Mercy. Forgiveness. Optimism.

They’re all _choices,_ you say.

I think I understand.

Finally, I think I understand you.

You and your divergence from our parallel.

…

Gods, you are _strange,_ Bannbreker. I’d wager that you’d choose to look for the light even if you were blind.

But, that dogged determination of yours seems to have served you well enough in the past.

It’s made you stronger than I dare imagine. Perhaps not the same brand of strength I have - well, _had,_ to be fair - but strength nonetheless.

I underestimated that strength. Many times. And, I paid the price for it. Many times.

I hope, with whatever sentience I have left, that _he_ underestimates you as well.

It might be your, and the world’s, best chance.

Go, now. Get out of here.

…

Oh, quit with the sentiment, already.

…

Fine.

We will meet again, Bann-… _Finley._ I’m sure of it.

Just as before.

Hmph. We always return to the beginning, to where it all started, don’t we?

…

Nevermind. I’ve said too much.

…

Oh, don’t start with _that._

I’m beyond help at this point.

Go…go guard the world. Just leave me alone.

 

***

 

The voice faded, and with it, the crimson glow of the wisp she held, leaving only the darkened skies of the approaching storm from the north.

Thunder rattled the air. The stench of the poison waste bothered her nose, making her head spin slightly, and she let her hand fall back to her side with an empty sigh.

As the first drops of rain began to fall, Finley bowed her head ever so slightly.

Perhaps it was to keep the water from running into her eyes.

Perhaps it was a gesture of mourning.

Perhaps it was a bit of both.

After a few minutes, she straightened, brushed her dripping bangs from her forehead, shivered from the suddenly chilled air, and began the long walk back to Yanille.

 

***

 

_Anima sanitatis._

_Fascinating._

_I can see why my treacherous protegee coveted such a thing._

_I must keep watch._

Gripping its staff, the figure lingered for a moment longer before dissolving in the falling rain.


End file.
